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“So, it’s a little further to the campsite,” Steve was telling Eddie, striding out a few paces ahead, pack sitting high on his back. “We just gotta cross a little river up ahead, and then the track winds through this meadow, it’s really nice -”
“A river?” Eddie interrupted, spluttering.
Steve turned back to him, rolled his eyes fondly. “Only a little one, Eds. I’ll hold your hand, don’t worry.” He smirked a little, and Eddie poked the tip of his tongue out at his boyfriend.
Why Steve had to be so outdoors-inclined, Eddie didn’t understand.
But he loved him, and Steve spent plenty of time doing things that Eddie wanted to do – like watching some B-grade horror with a joint in hand, or browsing through tapes at the record store, or jamming with his friends in Jeff’s garage while Steve watched from the couch in the corner, smiling even though he was almost definitely fighting off a headache.
So, Eddie knew it was only fair that Steve chose the activities sometimes.
Just…why did it have to be camping?
Wayne had laughed himself into a coughing fit when Eddie had sheepishly told him their plan for the weekend. A short drive to some hike Steve had heard about, an ‘easy’ trek to a good camping spot where they’d spend the next two nights, and then they’d return late on the final day.
Simple, Steve had said. A nice way to introduce you to hiking.
So far, Eddie had to admit, it had been…nice.
The sun was shining, the sky clear and blue, but it wasn’t as hot as it could’ve been. They hadn’t passed anyone else on the track so far – nothing except birds overhead, the occasional rabbit bounding away from them, and a deer that poked its head out of the trees then lumbered deeper into the woods.
And Steve was so happy, which was good enough for Eddie. He didn’t think his boyfriend had stopped smiling since they’d set out (at the ass-crack of dawn, Eddie had complained, but only a little – because Steve was so damn excited).
Steve had stopped ahead of him, hands on his hips as he assessed something down a small bank ahead of him.
Catching up, Eddie frowned down at the river below them. “Steve, that’s…”
“…a little higher than I thought it would be during summer,” Steve admitted. “But we’ll be fine. See the little flag down there, someone’s marked out where to cross.”
Eddie held Steve’s hand. Wobbled across slippery stones, cursed under his breath when the water quickly coursed over his ankles and flooded the boots he’d borrowed from Wayne. When it got to knee-height, Steve let go of his hand, instead linking elbows and keeping Eddie tucked close to his side as they navigated the fast-flowing water.
Finally, they reached the other side. Eddie looked mournfully down at his soaked jeans (because he’d drawn the line at shorts, despite Steve’s repeated suggestions) and immediately knew that was going to chafe like a bitch until they dried.
“Well,” Steve said, still grinning, “that was fun.”
“Uh huh,” Eddie drawled out, but he couldn’t stay grumpy for long. Not when Steve was pointing out a brightly-coloured bird up ahead, not when he was picking a dark blue flower from the side of the path and handing it to Eddie with a shy smile.
As the sun moved across the sky and gradually dipped lower, they made their way to the camp site marked on Steve’s map.
It was tucked away in a clearing, surrounded on all sides by tall trees, a small, flat piece of land just perfect for pitching tents. The shade offered some relief from the summer sun, and the trees made Eddie feel…secure. Nothing could move quietly on the bone-dry leaves underfoot, which meant nothing could sneak up on them out here, either.
To their pleasant surprise, it was as empty as the trail had been.
Steve tugged Eddie close, smacked a kiss to his cheek because he could, while Eddie offloaded his pack and flopped down dramatically on the ground.
“Careful, Eds,” Steve teased, “I betcha there’s bugs everywhere down there.”
Eddie scuttled upright, frantically brushing leaves and forest debris from his sleeves. “Fucking hell, Steve,” he groaned as the other man chuckled.
“Here, sit on this.” Steve tossed him a rolled-up blanket from his pack, Eddie gratefully shoving it under his ass and looking suspiciously down at the ground, eyes narrowed as he tried to spot any movement. “I was kidding, Eds,” Steve said eventually. “Might be some ants or something, but that’s probably it.”
“Can we open the snacks?” Eddie asked, blinking up at Steve with wide eyes because he knew Steve would always cave to them.
“Alright.” Steve rifled through his pack, pulled out a tube of Pringles and a pack of candy and handed them over. “Save the marshmallows for later, though, we can toast them.”
“Aye aye, boss.” Eddie gave him a little mock salute before tearing the lid off the Pringles.
“Can you start setting the tent up? I’m gonna gather some firewood.”
Eddie crunched, talking with his mouth full. “Is there like…instructions and shit?”
“Nah, but I’m sure you’ll work it out. And I’ll help when I get back.”
Eddie swallowed, looked dubiously at the tent poles and material Steve had laid out on the ground. Something scuttled through the undergrowth behind him, and Eddie jumped, suddenly realizing just how isolated they were out here.
“You won’t be gone long, right?” Eddie asked, a little nervously.
Steve smiled, sure and comforting. “Nope. I won’t go far, and I’ll be back before you know it.”
*****
Eddie was about ready to snap these tent poles in half.
Swearing, he tossed two of them down onto the ground, because he’d assumed they’d just click into place but they wouldn’t and none of the pieces were matching up and he’d already accidentally stabbed a little hole in the fabric and he just really hoped Steve wouldn’t notice…
He sat down on his blanket again. Looked at the mess he’d made of all the equipment, and huffed in annoyance. Steve would’ve had this up in five minutes, he knew. But this really wasn’t Eddie’s forte, so he resigned himself to just waiting for his boyfriend’s return.
Which…couldn’t be too much longer, right?
Steve had already been gone at least thirty minutes, by Eddie’s estimate. He looked at his watch – it was just after seven pm. The sun was low, the light fading quickly here behind the tall trees.
“Steve?” he called, because he said he wasn’t going to go far, right?
He listened. For a response, for footsteps, for rustling in the undergrowth, anything.
There was a hoot of a bird, but nothing that suggested Steve.
Eddie sighed. He’d wait a little longer, he decided. He didn’t want Steve coming back to an empty campsite and fretting over where Eddie had gone, after all.
He pulled his jacket from his bag and slipped it on, the warmth disappearing as quickly as the sun. A campfire would sure be nice, if only Steve was here with the wood…
He waited another fifteen minutes, then he couldn’t bear it anymore, worry starting to coil in his gut.
Grabbing a flashlight, Eddie set out in the direction Steve had gone in. There was still enough light to traipse through the trees without the flashlight, but it wouldn’t be much longer until he needed it.
“Stevie?” he yelled, but received no answer.
Were there bears out here? Eddie wasn’t sure. But what if Steve had run into something, what if he’d gotten lost…
Eddie stopped in his tracks. Dug around in his pocket for a candy wrapper, dropped it on the ground by his feet. There was no wind, and he hoped like hell it would stay there so he could make his way back to the campsite – just in case.
He kept walking. Kept calling for Steve, dropped another candy wrapper every now and then.
His gaze was pulled to a freshly-snapped branch, the wood much lighter in colour there – had Steve broken that off for firewood?
“Steve?” he called again, panic starting to lace his voice.
He looked around for anything to suggest he was going in the right direction. Clicked on his flashlight, because it was just a little too dark now to see clearly.
The beam lit up several skid marks in the dirt up ahead, the ground disturbed, the leaves scattered and trodden.
Something had been here, something big, something Steve-sized, perhaps.
Eddie ran over to the marks in the ground, shone his flashlight around the area.
His heart stopped.
There was a bank sloping sharply downwards, steep and dotted with moss-covered rocks and maybe thirty feet high.
The skid marks in the dirt led straight to it.
Eddie knelt down at the edge, peered over it.
“Steve?”
He shone his flashlight down.
“Steve!” he screamed.
The crumpled figure of his boyfriend was lying at the bottom.
“Hang on, I’m…I’m coming down!”
Shoving the flashlight in between his teeth, Eddie slid a short way down the bank on his ass, digging his fingers into the dirt and grasping at vines and roots to stop himself from sliding too quickly. This was stupid, it was dangerous, but Steve was down there looking far too pale and still and Eddie was terrified.
Eddie shuffled and slid his way to the bottom, kicking up leaves and skinning his palm on a rock but he barely felt it – he just had to get to Steve.
Finally, he was there, throwing himself to his knees next to his boyfriend, trembling hand finding his shoulder and shaking him gently.
“Steve? Stevie, can you hear me?”
There was no response. Steve’s eyes were shut, dried blood caking the side of his face, the skin sickly white underneath.
Shaking, Eddie pressed two dirt-encrusted fingers to the side of Steve’s neck.
He waited. Prayed under his breath to every deity he’d ever heard of, just give him this, he’d do anything, just give him Steve Harrington…
There was a pulse.
Eddie choked on a relieved sob, then gently tapped Steve’s cheek.
“Stevie? Sweetheart, can you wake up? Please?”
Nothing.
Eddie set the flashlight up on a nearby rock so the beam illuminated Steve, and desperately wracked his brain trying to think of what the hell to do.
He’d taken a first aid course once. It was Steve that had insisted, even after Vecna, because themselves and their friends had been injured too many damn times and they needed to know what to do. But he’d only half paid attention because Mike had thrown a bandage at his head and Steve had done that thing where he’d stood with his hands on his hips and just looked disappointed at the kid and Eddie had sort of wanted to lick him and he hadn’t been able to concentrate on much since then…
Ok.
First things first – he needed to know what he was dealing with.
Taking a deep breath, Eddie peered down at the cut on Steve’s head. It was up above his hairline, shallow but nasty-looking, and had thankfully stopped bleeding.
He worked his way down. Ran his hands over Steve’s chest, over his torso, slid his hands gently behind his back because he didn’t want to move him too much, remembered somewhere in the back of his mind that that could be bad, felt for any bleeding or anything obvious.
Relieved to not find anything too serious, Eddie carried on. Cupped his hands around Steve’s thigh, squeezed gently, ran his hand down…
Wet. His fingers were instantly wet.
Eddie pulled back, holding up his hand in the light.
Blood stained his palm, red and fresh.
Heart thumping, Eddie scrambled onto Steve’s other side, rolled him as far as he dared so he could find the source.
His blood ran cold, pulse pounding in his ears.
There was a branch poking out from Steve’s thigh, maybe an inch and a half wide, twice that length protruding out, caked in dirt and god-knew what else. He couldn’t tell how far it was embedded into the meat of Steve’s leg, but there was still blood dripping from the snapped-off end of it.
Eddie forced himself to breathe. Quickly checked over the rest of Steve, shrugged off his jacket to lay over him, then returned his attention to the worst injury.
Don’t pull it out, something screamed in his brain.
He vaguely recalled sitting next to Robin while the first-aid instructor went over what to do in the event someone was stabbed or impaled with something. Steve was being used to demonstrate, the instructor showing them how to bandage around a protruding object, repeating over and over to them to not pull it out because it would worsen the bleeding. Eddie had leant over to Robin, whispered some quip about never wanting to pull out of Steve anyway and Robin had gagged and slapped him.
Eddie tore several strips from his t shirt and tied them together into one longer length. The front of it was still fairly clean, having missed the worst of the dirt as he’d slid down the bank. He took a moment to steady his hands, to breathe in and out, and then wrapped the makeshift bandage around the branch as close to the skin as he could get. He then passed it several times around Steve’s leg, tying it off tightly and stabilizing the branch. With his final piece, he tore a small hole in the middle and placed it over the branch, letting it poke through the hole before securing it on the inside of Steve’s leg.
Steve twitched.
Eddie froze, glancing up at him.
“Stevie?”
The smallest noise escaped the man’s lips, a soft exhale, his brows pinching together.
Eddie shuffled closer, on his hands and knees beside him. “Steve, can you hear me? Come on, sweetheart, you gotta wake up.”
He brushed a thumb across his cheek. Gently patted it again, and then swallowed hard.
“I’m sorry Stevie, need you to wake up,” Eddie murmured, then smacked with an open hand on his collarbone, ran his knuckles hard across it, recalled Steve doing the same to him when Eddie had been half-dead in a self-destructing landscape with nothing but black and red all around him until Steve was there…
“Eds?” Steve grunted, and Eddie could have cried.
“Yeah, yeah it’s me, sweetheart.”
“Where ‘m I?” he slurred, eyes still firmly shut.
“What do you remember?”
Steve was quiet for a moment, face pinched with pain. “Camping,” he croaked out eventually, “we were…camping.”
“Yeah,” Eddie agreed, smiling through tears, “you came out here to get firewood, you must’ve taken a tumble down that bank.”
Steve cracked his eyes open then, blinking slowly up at Eddie, gaze hazy and unfocused before he screwed them shut again with a wince. “M’leg…” he ground out, moving to try and reach for it.
At least he was moving, Eddie supposed, his concern about some sort of spinal injury fading a little bit.
Eddie stopped him with a hand on his chest. “Yeah you’ve…well, you’ve kinda…impaled it on a branch,” he said quickly, unsure how to sugarcoat it.
Steve groaned, let his head tip back into the dirt.
“I’ve bandaged it, but we need to get you outta here, Stevie.”
“Don’ think I can walk,” Steve whispered, going still again.
“Hey, hey,” Eddie said urgently, tapping him again. “Stay with me, Stevie. I’ll carry you, ok?”
Steve opened an eye again, somehow had the energy to look doubtful.
“What?” Eddie huffed, tried to keep his tone light for Steve’s sake, even though he was internally losing his shit. “You think I can’t? Come on, big boy, let’s get you up.”
Steve groaned as Eddie helped him sit up, hands reaching reflexively for his leg.
“Don’t touch that, sweetheart,” Eddie chastised, then let Steve sit and get his breath back for a moment. “Think you can stand?”
Steve paled even further if that was even possible, but swallowed several times and gave a tiny nod.
“Are you dizzy? Nauseous? How many fingers am I holding up?” Eddie asked worriedly, flapping a hand probably too quickly in front of Steve’s face.
Steve batted weakly at it. “Too many,” he slurred.
“Well that’s…not good.” Eddie chewed on his lower lip. “You’ve had so many concussions already, does this…feel worse than any of the others, like is it really bad, or -”
“Eds,” Steve cut in, breathing heavily. “Calm down.”
“Sorry.” Eddie snapped his mouth shut. He needed to be the level-headed one, he needed to get them out of here and to somewhere safe, but Steve’s blood was all over his hands and there was sweat beading with the blood on his forehead and he looked like hell and Eddie was fucking scared.
Is this what Steve had felt like, when their roles had been reversed all those months ago in the Upside Down?
“Yes,” Steve mumbled, and Eddie realized he’d voiced that thought out loud.
Eddie steeled himself. “Ok, let’s get you up.”
Slowly, Eddie wincing at every pained noise that escaped Steve’s lips, they managed to get upright. Steve swayed dangerously, leaning hard against Eddie who had an arm wrapped firmly around his waist.
“Hey, you’re ok, I gotcha,” Eddie told him, not letting him sink back down to the ground.
“Eds,” Steve slurred, sounding more out-of-it than ever, “m’leg.”
Eddie glanced down, wished he hadn’t.
The movement had jostled the branch, and blood was running freely down Steve’s leg again, soaking into the top of his sock.
“I’m gonna carry you, sweetheart,” he said firmly, ignoring the sound of protest that came from Steve. He shoved the flashlight under his armpit, cupped one arm below Steve’s knees, and hoisted him up to cradle him to his chest.
Steve cried out, and Eddie blinked back tears.
“Sorry, I’m so sorry Stevie,” he murmured into his hair.
Eddie started to walk. There was no way he was getting Steve back up that steep bit of the bank, so he followed it back in the vague direction of camp, hoping to find an easier spot to climb up.
Steve was mumbling under his breath every now and then, Eddie encouraging him to keep talking, but he was losing the battle against unconsciousness again and Eddie knew it.
He was also heavy.
Eddie wasn’t sure how far he could carry him like this – his arms were burning under his weight, his steps starting to slow.
He sucked in a breath.
He’d carry Steve forever if he had to.
Had Steve struggled this much, when he’d thrown Eddie over his shoulder, when he’d high-tailed it away from the dying demobats and demodogs and fuck knows what else while the Upside Down collapsed around them?
Eddie didn’t think so.
He remembered pain, remembered the dull haze of nothing that followed the pain, Steve’s shoulder digging into his stomach, his shirt slick with Eddie’s blood, Steve’s voice cutting through Eddie’s foggy brain and keeping him tethered.
It’s ok Eddie, you just hold on, I’m gonna get you out, you keep breathing dammit, we’re nearly there, stay with me…
Eddie paused. Looked down at Steve, at the way his head was lolling against Eddie’s chest, eyes closed again.
“I gotcha, Stevie,” Eddie whispered, “you’ll be ok, you just keep breathing for me, ok?”
Steve didn’t answer.
Eddie lowered Steve’s feet to the ground, adjusted his footing, ducked down low and hitched Steve over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.
Then, he continued, feeling Steve’s blood soak into his jeans and gritting his teeth.
The slope of the bank lessened more and more, until Eddie could simply step up, hauling both his and Steve’s weight upwards.
A spark of hope gathered in him when he saw the glint of a candy wrapper in the glow of his flashlight.
“We’re back on track, Stevie,” Eddie whispered to him.
He got no answer, but that was ok.
Eddie continued to talk anyway.
“Just a little longer, then we’ll be back at camp. I didn’t get the tent up, I was useless at it I’m sorry…but maybe I can get a fire going, and I’ll get you warm, ok? You’ll be ok Stevie, I’ll look after you.”
He didn’t mention what the plan was after that.
He had no idea.
But right now, all that mattered was getting Steve to somewhere warm.
As quickly as he could, Eddie made his way from candy wrapper to candy wrapper, hoping like hell they hadn’t moved too much since he’d dropped them.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, he broke through the trees and into the clearing where their gear was still scattered.
Carefully, he lowered Steve to the ground onto the blanket he’d been sitting on earlier, then grabbed another and tucked it over the top of him. He tied another strip from his t shirt around Steve’s leg, hoping the bleeding would stop again now that he was still. Steve flinched a little when Eddie tied it snugly, then settled again.
Eddie turned his attention to getting a fire going. They needed it for warmth, light, and as a deterrent in case there was anything out here that wanted to make a meal out of them.
Steve had ventured quite a way to gather firewood, but there was no way in hell Eddie was straying far to collect it. He headed a short distance into the trees, keeping Steve in his view, and started snapping off some branches. Maybe it wouldn’t be as good as what Steve had been trying to find, but he didn’t care, as long as it burned.
He stacked his collection up in a small pile in the middle of the clearing. Tore the Pringles tube apart, ripping off bits of cardboard and placing them between branches. Rather than wasting time rifling through Steve’s pack for the matches, Eddie fished his lighter from his pocket and ignited a piece of cardboard.
His first few attempts at getting the little flames to catch on the branches failed.
Maybe the wood was too fresh, too green, too wet even thought it felt dry to Eddie. Cursing, he tried again, and again, until finally he managed to coax the fire into life, slumping in relief when it crackled and took.
The orange glow was comforting, warmth starting to sink into Eddie’s bones and it was only then that he realized how cold he was. He’d given his jacket to Steve and his t shirt was torn to shreds, hanging just below his chest, the rest of it desperately wrapped around Steve’s leg.
He grabbed a new t shirt from his pack, then sat down next to Steve again, taking his hand.
“Stevie?” he tried, but got no response. A sob worked its way up his throat. “I…I don’t know what to do, I need…I need you, sweetheart, please.”
The light from the fire illuminated Steve’s pale face. Eddie looked down at him, rubbing his limp hand between both of his own, silently willing Steve to wake up because he would know what to do, Steve always knew what to do…
No.
Eddie needed to look after him.
He dragged Steve’s pack over. Emptied out the contents of it, searching for any sign of a first aid kit because surely Steve would have packed one…
He had.
There, at the bottom of the pack was a small tin with a red cross-shaped sticker on the top.
Eddie tugged it out, flipped open the lid and assessed the contents.
Some little antiseptic wipes in a packet, band aids, a real bandage, some tweezers, some scissors, one of those weird tinfoil-looking blankets…
Eddie took out the bandage first. Wrapped that over the top of his makeshift ones on Steve’s leg – the wound seemed to have stopped bleeding for now, but he wanted to make sure.
Then he poured some water on his hands, cleaned them as best he could and ripped open the packet of wipes. He dabbed at the cut on Steve’s head, peeling back the hair that stuck to it and cleaning up the dried blood there. There wasn’t a lot more he could do for it, so Eddie left it alone after that.
Steve felt cold, but his skin was clammy, sweat breaking out on his face.
Eddie unfolded the emergency blanket, tucked it close around Steve, then placed the other blanket back on top of him.
Water, he should…Steve needed water.
Eddie scrambled up again, grabbed his bottle from the pouch on the side of the pack, hovered by Steve again.
How was he supposed to get him to drink if he wouldn’t wake up?
He paused there, holding the bottle tight in his hand, looking down at Steve.
He put the bottle down, picked it back up again.
Stuck in a loop of wanting to help but not knowing what the fuck to do, Eddie sat down next to him again. Folded a corner of the blanket down where it had come untucked from under Steve’s arm.
Should he get him into clean clothes?
No, that would jostle his leg too much.
But Steve was cold, his shorts and the collar of his t shirt were damp still from blood, it had to be uncomfortable as hell.
He took Steve’s hand again, squeezed it.
“Steve?”
When there was no response, Eddie took a small sip of the water for himself. He didn’t want to use too much of it, Steve would need it once he woke up, maybe he’d want something to eat too - Eddie could get something ready, so he could have something nice and hot for when he woke up…
A tear trickled down Eddie’s cheek.
He’ll wake up, he told himself. He has to.
He could go and get help, he figured.
It was dark, and it would be dangerous, but he could take a flashlight and make it to the carpark by dawn. There was the river he’d have to cross alone and in the pitch black, of course, but...did he have much of a choice?
Looking down at Steve trembling under the blankets, he didn’t think so.
Could he leave him though? Exposed and vulnerable, in the middle of the woods? What if he woke up confused, what if he somehow limped off somewhere looking for Eddie, what if a fucking bear showed up…
Eddie stood again, collected more branches from nearby, threw them onto the fire to feed the flames. If he built the fire up enough then maybe it wouldn’t burn out overnight, that should keep any animals away and ensure Steve stayed warm.
He pulled on a jacket – Steve’s, since Eddie’s own was currently wrapped around Steve – breathed in the lingering scent of his boyfriend for a moment, blinked back fresh tears, and crouched beside him again.
“Steve,” he whispered, clasping his hand again. “I’m gonna go get help. You just…keep breathing for me, ok? I’ll be back before you know it.”
Steve’s hand twitched.
Eddie shifted, looking hopefully down at him.
“Steve?”
A small noise came from him, something unhappy and disgruntled, followed by a single “No.”
“No? No what?”
“S’dangerous,” Steve drawled, voice barely audible – Eddie had to lean down close to hear him.
“Sweetheart, I’ve gotta go, you need help -”
“No,” Steve repeated, more firmly now, and squeezed Eddie’s hand with surprising force.
“Steve -”
“Please,” Steve all but whined. “Don’t leave me.”
Eddie slumped, deflating like a balloon. He curled his fingers around Steve’s, kissed his bruised knuckles. “Ok.”
“Promise?”
“I promise,” Eddie said sincerely, powerless as ever to deny Steve anything. “Can you drink some water?”
Steve made a face, eyebrows pinching together.
“Please?” Eddie pressed.
Steve relented, allowing Eddie to raise his head up just slightly and bring the bottle to his lips. Steve choked down a few mouthfuls, swallowing weakly, and let Eddie guide his head back down to the clothing he was using as a makeshift pillow.
“How’re you feeling, Stevie?”
“Cold.”
Eddie frowned. While it was certainly much cooler than it had been during the day, it was still a fairly mild night, and Steve was under several layers now.
He reached out, laid his hand against Steve’s forehead. “You’re hot. I’m gonna take one of these blankets off -”
Steve made a noise of protest, weakly grabbing for his blankets. “Cold,” he repeated.
“You aren’t.”
But despite the heat coming off his skin, Eddie could see his boyfriend was visibly shivering. Even with his limited medical knowledge, Eddie knew this was not good. He wished he had some way of cleaning the wound in Steve’s leg, but he was afraid to unwrap the bandages, and it was pointless when he still had half the stick inside him, anyway – but Eddie hated to think what kind of bacteria and grime was currently flooding into his system.
The hours ticked by.
Eddie sat next to Steve as he drifted in and out of consciousness. He held his hand, adjusted his blankets, made him sip water whenever he woke up for long enough to drink. He couldn’t help but think he should’ve just gone for help earlier, but Steve had made him promise, hadn’t wanted to be left alone and Eddie couldn’t do that to him.
In the first light of dawn, Steve looked even worse.
All colour was gone from his face apart from the bruising beginning on the side of his head, he was shivering violently now and muttering in his sleep and waking less and less frequently.
Eddie had to go.
He had no choice.
It was light, at least, so the walk would be safer.
Quietly, he began to pack up anything he might need. Grabbed Steve’s map and compass, one bottle of water, a jacket, Steve’s car keys.
He made a little pile next to Steve – the other water bottle, some snacks, some spare clothes – anything Steve might need close at hand. It was wishful thinking to believe he’d have the strength to use any of it, but it made Eddie feel just a little better about leaving.
Finally, he squatted down next to him.
“Steve? Steve, can you hear me?”
Steve shifted, just slightly, eyes opening just a peep.
“I’m going to walk back to the car, ok? I have to get you help.”
“S’not safe,” Steve whispered.
“It’s light now,” Eddie told him, “I’ll be ok, I promise. But we can’t wait any longer.”
“Don’t wan’ you to leave,” Steve mumbled.
Eddie inhaled shakily. “I know, sweetheart, but I gotta. Drink some water before I go?”
He could barely manage a mouthful before turning away from the bottle, and Eddie knew they didn’t have long. He bent down, kissed Steve’s cheek, uncoiled Steve’s fingers where they’d grabbed hold of his t shirt.
With his heart in his throat, Eddie started out on the trail, forcing himself to not look back at his boyfriend lying there alone.
*****
He jogged as much as he could, slowing to a fast walk when he needed to get his breath back. Eddie had never been a runner, but Steve needed him, needed him to find help and get back to him quickly.
He was crying. Had been for a while now, and it was only exacerbated every time he passed something he remembered from yesterday.
There was the field of yellow flowers Steve had loved, and there were the blue ones where he’d picked one for Eddie, there was another of those dumb birds he’d been excited about, there was the rock Eddie had said was weirdly dick-shaped and Steve had snorted with laughter and poked him in the side…
He reached the river quickly, adrenaline powering him forward.
It looked even higher than yesterday, and Eddie spent a minute assessing the flow and trying to work out if he could even get across it alone, but he had no choice.
He went surging in. Struggled to keep his footing on the slippery rocks, battled against the powerful flow, wished with every fibre of his being that Steve were here doing this with him…
He slipped.
Crashed into the water, landed hard on his ass, spluttered as the cold shocked his system a little, then scrabbled around to try and get a grip on something.
“Eds!” A familiar voice yelled from the opposite bank, “stay there, we’re coming to help!”
Eddie was just trying to keep his head above the water when strong hands found him, pulling him upright and supporting him back to the bank.
“You ok, son?”
Wayne.
Wayne was here…
Eddie shook his head, tried to talk but only succeeded in making an unintelligible noise, there was so much he needed to say but how did he start –
“Hang on, hang on, let’s get ya outta the water here, take a seat.” Wayne guided him to sit in the grass, kept a hand on his shoulder while he tried to breathe.
Eddie looked up, saw another familiar man mid-way through the crossing, the water breaking against his upper thigh.
“Hopper!?” he questioned, heart racing.
“Uh huh. Just sit tight.”
“What’re you two doing here? Steve, we gotta get to Steve, he’s back at the campsite -” Eddie blurted, words coming out in a rush.
Wayne crouched down, eyes wide and concerned. “There was rain further inland, up in the hills, hadn’t been forecast,” he explained, “We were worried it’d make the river too high for you to get back if you stayed another day, so we came out to get ya. What’s happened with Steve?”
“We have to be quick, he…I think he’s dying,” Eddie choked on a sob, shivering in his wet clothes.
Hopper had reached them now, squatting down beside them. “What’s goin’ on? You alright, Munson?”
“Yeah, I’m…I’m fine, we have to get to Steve though, he fell, he’s really hurt, we gotta go quick,” Eddie said in a rush, shoving himself back to his feet and striding back towards the direction he’d come.
Wayne and Hopper rushed to follow him, Eddie explaining in a shaky tone as they walked what had happened last night. He tried to answer as many of Hopper’s questions about Steve’s condition as he could, but he was frustrated and anxious, they had to move faster…
“S’alright son, we’ll get there,” Wayne tried to reassure him, nearly having to break into a jog to keep up with his nephew.
“What if he’s already…” Eddie trailed off, not able to finish that sentence.
Wayne gave him a somber look, then shook his head. “He’ll be ok, Eds. You’ll see.”
Hopper was periodically trying the radio at his hip, cursing every time he got nothing but the crackle of static. “No signal out here,” he muttered, slamming the ariel back down.
Finally, when they were less than hour away from Steve, Hopper took the map from Eddie and explained he was going to head to higher ground and hopefully better signal, see if he could get through to anyone to organize help for Steve. Before leaving he handed something that looked like a first aid kit from his pack to Wayne, and Eddie felt a little better because surely Hopper’s would be more comprehensive than their own basic one…
Eddie ran the last leg, Wayne huffing and wheezing behind him but never asking Eddie to slow down.
As they approached the campsite, Eddie couldn’t but envision Steve missing, or a bear lurking around the camp, or worse just seeing Steve lying there completely still…
His boyfriend was as he left him. Lying beside the dying fire, huddled under his blankets, chapped lips parted as he breathed with effort.
Eddie threw himself to his knees beside him, grabbing for his hand, tears running down his cheeks.
“Stevie? Stevie, I got help, Wayne’s here, and Hopper’s out there trying to radio someone, it’ll be ok. Steve?” He squeezed his hand, shook it, waited for any sort of reaction.
“Oh hell, son,” Wayne breathed, kneeling beside Eddie with a grunt of effort.
Eddie turned to him, panicked. “He’ll be ok, right? I know he’s not awake right now but he does this, he’ll wake up soon, he’s been going in and out but I’m sure if he wakes up and sees you and knows that help’s coming then he’ll feel better, and maybe we can get him to drink some more water, that’s important, right?”
“Eddie,” Wayne placed a hand on his shoulder, the weight soothing, “let me check him over, ok? You said his leg’s the worst of it?”
Eddie nodded, chewing anxiously on a thumb nail, his other hand still cradling Steve’s.
Wayne assessed Steve carefully and methodically.
Eddie watched.
Sometimes, it slipped to the back of his mind that his uncle had served in Vietnam. Wayne never spoke about it, and Eddie never asked, respecting his unspoken wish to try and forget about it. He knew Wayne would never truly forget, just as Eddie would never forget his experiences in the Upside Down, but he sure seemed to be doing his best.
At least his experience over there was serving him well now, though – he seemed to know what he was doing, inspecting Eddie’s bandaging job with a tilt of his head and a small nod.
“Needa get a look under here,” Wayne commented, fingers settling on the edge of the bandage.
“Won’t that make it bleed again?”
“Seems like it hasn’t for a while, these are all dry, and I’ll go carefully. This stick’ll be stopping most of the bleeding, anyway – good thinking leaving that there. Hand me that kit, will ya? Need some clean bandages to replace these with.”
Slowly, Wayne unwound the multitude of t shirt material Eddie had tied around Steve’s leg. He paused after each layer to check for any fresh bleeding, then continued until finally he’d eased the last one off.
“Christ,” Wayne muttered under his breath.
The skin around the wound was fiery red and angry-looking under caked blood, little streaks spreading outwards back up his leg from it.
“This is infected,” Wayne confirmed, “and badly, too.” He tugged one layer of Steve’s blankets off, bundling it up and tossing it to one side.
Eddie sucked in a breath, his heart pounding. “What…what do we do? Tell me what to do?”
“Hand me that antiseptic,” Wayne said, gesturing to the little bottle in the first aid kit, “there’s not a lot we can do for him out here, he needs a hospital and antibiotics, but this’ll help a little.”
Eddie nodded shakily, handed him the bottle.
Wayne tipped some onto a cotton pad, started to gently wipe around the edge of the wound, around the protruding stick. Once he’d cleaned away all he could without disturbing it too much, he tipped up the bottle, letting it pour around the area.
That got a reaction from Steve, the man hissing and twitching away from Wayne.
“Steve? Steve!” Eddie exclaimed, shuffling forward on his knees to lean over him.
“Hurts,” Steve gasped out.
“I know, I’m sorry sweetheart, Wayne’s here, he’s cleaning up your leg, ok? Hopper’s gone for help, we’ll be outta here soon, it’ll be ok.”
“Eds?”
“Yeah, Stevie?”
“I don’t…I don’ feel s’good,” Steve slurred, and then he was rolling onto his side with a groan and vomiting into the dirt.
Wayne moved quickly, helping him turn his head while he gagged and heaved, rubbing a hand over his back.
“Alright son, you’re ok, I gotcha,” Wayne murmured to him. “Eds, help me keep him on his side so he don’t choke.”
Eddie froze for a moment, watching his boyfriend shudder and convulse his way through another episode of vomiting.
“Eddie!” Wayne said again, more firmly.
Eddie snapped himself out of it, knelt down behind Steve and raised his hip slightly, keeping him on his side.
“Right, keep him there,” Wayne instructed, “I need to get that leg bandaged again.”
“Wayne?” Steve whispered, eyes still closed.
“Yeah, kid, it’s me,” Wayne told him softly, “Come to crash your campin’ trip.”
“S’ok,” Steve mumbled back to him, “plenty o’ room.”
Eddie started to cry again. He reached down, wiped at Steve’s mouth with the sleeve of his jacket, not caring about the mess getting on him. Steve fell silent again, occasionally wincing as Wayne rebandaged his leg with fresh supplies from Hopper’s kit.
Eddie stayed sitting behind Steve, his boyfriend draped half over his lap, Eddie’s arms looped around his waist.
“Eds,” Wayne said once he’d finished bandaging, “It’ll be ok, son.”
Eddie nodded, tiny and unsure, and held Steve tighter.
Hopper returned not long later, breaking the silence that had fallen over the camp. He stopped in his tracks briefly at seeing the barely-conscious Steve, but quickly gathered himself again.
“I got hold of some ranger, they’re organizing a helicopter, but we gotta get him out of these trees, the clearing’s not big enough for it to land here.”
There was a brief debate about building a stretcher for Steve, but in the end the time it would take put them off the idea. Instead, Hopper scooped him up in his arms, Eddie following anxiously beside him and not taking his eyes off Steve. Wayne gathered what gear he could from the camp and stuffed it in his pack to bring home – the rest they could return for some other time.
Once they were clear of the trees, Hopper set Steve down in the warm grass, Eddie sitting beside him.
“Stevie? You still with me?”
“Mmmm.”
“Good. You just hold on, ok? You’re about to get a helicopter ride.”
“S’cool.”
“Yeah.”
“Eds?”
“Yeah?”
“D’you get the tent up?” Steve was slurring heavily now, and Eddie had to concentrate to understand him.
“Huh?”
“The tent,” Steve repeated breathily, “don’ wanna sleep on the ground tonight. Bugs.”
“Baby…” Eddie brushed the hair back from Steve’s forehead. “We’re leaving, remember? We’re just waiting for the helicopter.”
“S’alright, probably just ants anyway,” Steve whispered.
“Wayne?” Eddie called out to his uncle, who was watching the sky a short distance away. “Wayne, I think he’s getting worse.”
Both men squatted next to Steve, Hopper reaching out and placing the back of his hand to Steve’s forehead.
“He’s really burning up,” he said grimly.
Wayne unwrapped the other blanket from Steve, ignoring his weak protests.
“M’cold,” Steve whimpered.
“You’re not, Stevie,” Eddie murmured to him, but he could feel Steve shivering where he was slumped against him.
Finally, after what felt like eternity, they heard chopper blades in the distance. Hopper stood in the middle of the flat meadow, waving his arms over his head and signaling the approaching helicopter which circled and slowly touched down, the grass bowing and waving under the wind from the rotor blades.
Two paramedics hopped out of the aircraft, approaching them with kits in hand and a collapsed stretcher between them.
Numbly, Eddie answered their questions while they took Steve’s vitals, while they shone a little light in his eyes and put a blood pressure cuff around his arm and injected him with something that made Steve go all loose and heavy in his arms. Yes, it happened nearly twenty-four hours ago now. Yes, he’d been vomiting. Yes, he’d had previous concussions. No, he didn’t have any other medical conditions.
“Can only take one of you with him in the chopper, sorry,” one of the paramedics announced, once Steve was loaded up securely.
“Him,” Wayne said immediately, flapping a hand at Eddie. “We’ll make our own way out.”
“Careful with that river, looked pretty high when we flew over,” the paramedic warned them.
“Will do,” Wayne told him, then turned to Eddie. “I’ll come to the hospital as soon as I can, alright? I’ll meet ya there.”
Eddie hugged him, squeezing him tight, immensely grateful for his uncle. He hung on just a little longer than usual, part of him feeling small with his face tucked in Wayne’s collar, needing the familiarity of him for just a moment longer.
Wayne patted him on the back gently. “You’re ok, Eds. And your boy’ll be ok now, too, you hear? He’s gonna be just fine.”
Eddie nodded. Pulled away, smiled as best he could, waved to Hopper then climbed up into the helicopter, reaching down to hold Steve’s hand.
He didn’t let go of it for a long time.
*****
Eddie had almost dozed off to the rhythmic beeping of monitors, to the feel of Steve’s hand in his, when he heard his favourite voice in the world and snapped awake again.
“Eds?”
“Stevie?”
Eddie sat forward, rubbed at his eyes quickly, and took in the sight in front of him.
Steve was blinking awake, looking exhausted but with more colour in his cheeks than Eddie had seen for days now. He still had an IV in, pumping him full of some serious antibiotics and who-knew what else, his leg was heavily bandaged from thigh to knee, and he had several stitches on the cut on his head.
His bedside table was loaded with get well cards – from the kids (Dustin had gotten him two, because he hadn’t been able to decide between cards) from Hopper and Joyce, Nancy and Jonathan, one from Argyle, another from Claudia who’d sent a bouquet of yellow flowers along with it.
It had been three days since Steve had first arrived at the hospital. Most of that time he’d spent sleeping, waking only for short stints and he was usually confused when he did – this was the most lucid-looking Eddie had seen him so far.
“How’re you feeling, sweetheart?” Eddie asked him, scooting forward on his god-awful plastic chair and reaching for his hand.
“Like shit,” Steve admitted with a small chuckle, “but…better than I have in a while, I think.”
“Good. That’s…that’s good. Wayne’ll be stopping by soon too, I think, he’ll be happy to see you awake. Not that you have to stay awake, of course, you can sleep if you want to, I can just tell him that you woke up and -”
“Eds,” Steve interrupted, soft smile on his lips, “thank you.”
“For what?”
“You saved my life,” Steve said quietly, running his thumb over Eddie’s knuckles.
Eddie shook his head, forcing back a sob he’d been holding onto for a long time. But Steve was awake again, he was doing better, and maybe just for a moment Eddie could stop being the strong one for a little bit, because he’d barely slept and he’d been so fucking worried and at this point he was running on fumes and sort of wanted Steve to just hold him, knew that was selfish but –
“I’m sorry,” he blurted suddenly. “I didn’t know what to do, you nearly died and I couldn’t do anything about it, your leg got infected and you had a fever but I kept piling blankets on you which was stupid and I should’ve gone for help on that first night and then maybe things wouldn’t have gotten so bad…”
“Eddie?”
“Yeah?”
“C’mere.” Steve patted the side of his bed, and Eddie crumpled forward.
Half in his chair and half on the bed, Eddie laid an arm across Steve’s waist and buried his face in his shoulder. Steve lifted a shaky arm and wound it over Eddie’s back, rubbing it gently.
“Shhhh, it’s ok,” Steve whispered to him.
Eddie was sobbing, his breath hitching, face pinched tight and hot tears soaking into Steve’s hospital gown.
“You did so well, Eds. You saved me.”
Eddie shuffled closer to him, breathed in the smell of his boyfriend behind the scent of hospital sheets, of disinfectant and that weird chemical smell that all hospitals seemed to contain within their white walls.
He didn’t care if the staff saw them now. Two men crying and embracing wouldn’t be the strangest thing the doctors and nurses of Hawkins Memorial Hospital had seen in recent times, after all.
“Stevie?” he mumbled, once he’d gotten his breath back.
“Yeah?” Steve asked gently, smiling tiredly at him.
He was the most beautiful thing Eddie had ever seen.
“We’re never going camping again.”